


Who Commits Injustice

by VerdiWithin



Series: Talisman [13]
Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Creepy, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Falling In Love, Hangover, Idiots in Love, Justice, Longing, Politics, Revenge, Rise of the Dread Queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 21:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21308554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdiWithin/pseuds/VerdiWithin
Summary: Hades is recovering from his argument with Persephone and the revelations of the Fates' video tape. He learns of Thanatos's betrayal and deals with the aftermath.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Series: Talisman [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1497371
Comments: 47
Kudos: 276





	Who Commits Injustice

**Author's Note:**

> Previously in this series:
> 
> Persephone earned a promotion due to her many contributions to the Underworld, and just completed Elysium. Eros and Psyche are back together. Hades is struggling with his emotions and the conflict he feels because Persephone is still in TGOEM. He doesn’t know she’s nearly ready to leave it. Persephone tried and failed to seduce Hades. Hades threw a giant party to celebrate the completion of Elysium, but Persephone found out about what he did to the photographer. They had a huge argument about it and leave one another extremely angry. The Fates finally sent the tape and Hades learned that he proposed to Persephone while he was drunk. Persephone discovered that Thanatos and some accomplices were planning to overthrow Hades using an army of shades. She summoned Hades and together they stopped the traitors.

I asked Persephone to marry me. The very first time I met her. I was drunk off my ass and I proposed to her, and I didn’t even remember it until I saw it in a Fates-damned video tape. What the fuck is wrong with me?

My whole life has been one fucking twist of the knife after another. My father fucking swallowed me. My brother banished me to the deepest fucking hole he could find. People cross the street to avoid me, because it’s my fucking job to be scary, to make my realm into the fucking dark mirror of Olympus.

I was drunk, and stupid, and conceited, but none of that changes the fact that I spoke the truth. I do want her. I am a stupid old fool and I am in love for the first time in my life and the woman of my dreams is a sacred virgin. Truly I am the Fates’ bitch.

I lie on the floor for hours. I stare at the ceiling. Any time I move or breathe too hard it feels like a spear through my eye. I should get up, take something, drink a lot of water. But I don’t. Some part of me thinks I deserve this. Every so often one of the dogs checks on me. My behavior worries them, and they whine for me to get up, but I can’t. Eventually I sleep.

I become aware of voices.

“Shit. I’ve never seen him this bad.”

“Yeah, it’s like a skeevy dive bar exploded in here.”

My brothers. Fuck. I keep my eyes closed and hope they go away. I hear the clink of bottles and some muttering, which soon fades. The floor is cool and soothing under my face. I start to doze again.

“Okay, up you come, ya big blue moron. Self-pity time is over now.” Someone’s pulling on my arm, and levering my shoulders off the floor. My head is a fierce red slash of pain. 

“No,” I groan. Someone’s lifting my other arm now and the cool embracing floor drops away. The room spins wildly and my gut clenches.

“He’s gonna hurl. C’mon, quick!”

I’m sitting on the couch and Poseidon is looking at me. His arms are folded and he looks worried.

“I said, drink that,” he says.

I look at my hand. I’m holding a large bottle full of water. My hand is cold from gripping it. I don’t want to drink that. My stomach is churning and my mouth tastes of acid.

“Coffee?” I croak.

“We’ve been through this four times. You can have some coffee after you drink the water.”

I slowly lift the bottle. It wobbles on its way to my mouth and icy water splashes over my chin. I glare at it.

Poseidon sighs, and reaches out to help. “There you go, buddy. Drink up.”

Zeus is making eggs. What have I done so wrong that I deserve to eat Zeus’s cooking? I close my eyes and rest my head on the table. I try to calculate how much longer I’m going to have to put up with this until they’ll leave me alone.

“Okay,” Zeus drops his fork on his plate and the noise makes me wince. “So apparently you fucked up somehow. Nobody seems to know much but Persephone ran out of the party super early, and I can tell you she sure looked awfully pissed.”

I do not want to talk about this. Not with anyone, but especially not with Zeus. However, I know from experience that he’s not going to relent until my humiliation is complete. I might as well get it over with. “She found out what I did to the photographer. The one from that damned tabloid article.”

He’s interested now. “What did you do?”

“Tore out his eye.”

“Huh. That seems a little extreme.”

Poseidon is still shoveling down food. They’ve cleaned me out of eggs and bread, so he’s started on cereal. Persephone’s sweet face beams at me from the box. I stare at it in misery.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “She thought so, too.”

“Okay, so how do you get her to forgive you?” Poseidon is in brainstorming mode. “You could send her flowers…”

“That usually works on Hera,” Zeus puts in. “But flowers for a flower goddess seems stupid.”

This annoys me. Persephone is a great deal more than a _ flower goddess _. 

“That’s true. Well, some other present, then. Is this a jewelry level fuck-up, or no?” Poseidon asks. 

“I dunno, that sets a bad precedent, ya know?” Zeus says. “I think you should turn the tables on her. Show her you’re angry with her for second-guessing you. I mean, who does this girl think she is, getting all high and mighty with a king?”

I can’t deny that what Zeus is describing was a part of my feelings, at first. But I think I understand her point of view now, and I know that I’m never going to win back her friendship by being an ass about it.

“Persephone and I are friends,” I say. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I greatly value her friendship. There’s no way I would treat her like that.”

“Right, man,” Zeus leers. “Don’t try to pretend you’re not desperate to bang that girl.”

“I’m not saying that,” I say. “But if she doesn’t feel the same way, then at a minimum I want to stay friends with her. I’m not throwing that away just to soothe my pride.”

It takes hours to convince them to go away. They keep trying to give me advice from their vast stores of wisdom as long-married men. It would take a huge effort to control my temper if it weren’t for my headache, which makes it difficult even to sit upright for long periods. I just lie slumped on the couch, drinking my water. This torment is my punishment.

***

Monday morning I’m still feeling rough. There’s a constant hot ache behind my eyes, and my stomach is extremely delicate. If I move too quickly, I’m staggered by waves of nausea and dizziness. I send a text to Hecate, take some painkillers and a bottle of water, and go back to bed.

With the help of large amounts of coffee, I finally make it to the office in late afternoon. The effort of getting there has worn me out. I drink more coffee. I try to read my email, but the print swims before my eyes, bringing back the dizziness.

Hecate finds me a while later holding my head in my hands, trying to read a report despite the spinning. “Pathetic,” she says ruefully. “I’m surprised you bothered to come in at all.” I don’t respond. She’s right, I am pathetic.

“Friday night could have been a PR disaster. You didn’t even warn me. Fortunately Eros gave me the tip, so I told people that the guest of honor was taken ill and you were dealing with a crisis.”

“Oh… good.” It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder about the party. “Did Persephone come in today?”

“Of course she did. On time, as usual. She’s hard at work, last I checked.”

I’m starting to suspect that Persephone is tougher than I am. I had half expected her to quit and never come back. “What am I going to do, Hecate? I don’t know how to fix this.”

She considers. “Give her some time. She’s still developing her own wrath. It’ll take a while for her to integrate that.”

I don’t really want an answer that doesn’t lead to immediate reconciliation, but what Hecate says makes sense. Persephone is the most kind and gentle person I know--naturally this is hard for her.

I’m considering how much to tell Hecate about the Fates’ video when I feel a sudden sensation like a hook in my chest, pulling me sharply. I receive the impression of pink silky hair, blue roses and the prick of sharp thorns, a faint scent of honey, a husky voice. _ Persephone _ is summoning me? “I have to go!” I yell, and I’m gone.

***

It’s dark here, a tiny space with rough rock walls and a viciously low ceiling. I hit my head immediately, the new pain just a drop in the bucket of my overall misery, but _ Persephone called me _. She wants to see me! She’s touching my arm and her soft breath is tickling my ear, and I’m thinking maybe she’s forgiven me--

Something of what she’s saying finally penetrates my thick skull. Thanatos. Traitor. Conspirators. Overthrow? Holy shit, what is this?

She leads me up to the edge of the little tunnel we’re in and we look down on a big open cave. There’s a bonfire below us and a bunch of people sitting around it, including Thanatos. Past the circle of firelight stand many shades, dressed as soldiers and armed. Oh great, not this crap again. When will they learn that my ability to command shades supersedes all others?

Thanatos is talking, that sneaky sack of shit. Oh, so he wants Persephone for himself? Not likely, you treacherous sleazeball. I’m feeling the pull of rage, the urge to submit to the dark storm, but I hold it off. At any cost, I must not frighten Persephone. She didn’t seem to be at all scared the other night, but I can’t take the chance.

"Where is this?" I ask, when we’ve retreated away from the edge.

"Some kind of cave system they call Vathia. The entrance tunnel is over that way and I'm not sure if there's another way out." She points to show me.

I really want to know how she got tangled up in this. "Okay. And how did you come to be here?"

She looks tense. "Thanatos tried to blackmail me. He said something about Hermes hiding secrets for me in the archives, so I followed him here. Once I saw all those shades I summoned you right away."

Well. That is very interesting. What could Persephone possibly have done that’s blackmail-worthy? And she just told me straight out, like it doesn’t matter to her.

"I'm very grateful to you for that." She had a perfect opportunity to get back at me, if she wanted. Maybe there’s hope that we can be friends again.

"Shouldn't we get some more people to help with this?" 

I’m certain this won’t be a problem. I can simply order the shades down there to subdue the traitors, if necessary, but I’m dying to see how Persephone handles herself in this situation. I don’t want anyone else here, getting in the way.

"For this? Nah. We can handle it.” I try to project my confidence in her. I start letting the change happen. Slowly, so she’s not taken by surprise. I summon my helmet and bident, and have a short debate with myself. Which would be better for Persephone? There are a few tricks to invisibility, and besides, I want to see her. I give her the bident.

“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” She’s skeptical, almost contemptuous. I smile.

“Stand in the entrance and scare the shit out of anyone who tries to get past you. Just pretend they’re me and yell at them.” I know exactly how intimidating she can be, and I’m eager to see her do it again.

I put on my helmet, feeling the invisibility settling on me, and transfer to the cave floor, well away from the fire. I approach the farthest group of shade soldiers and quietly order them to attention.

They don’t react. I try again, a little louder. Nothing. Shit! What the hell have they done? This is a basic part of my godhood, I’m the fucking God of the Dead! Nothing is supposed to interfere with my command of the mortal dead! Fuck, this isn’t good. There’s only two of us, and I’ve no idea if Persephone’s kickboxing with Ares counts as actual fighting experience.

I quickly approach the fire, just in time to see the conspirators reacting in surprise. Persephone is standing in the cave’s entrance, framed by the blackness of the tunnel behind her. She’s holding the bident in front of her and her eyes blaze with red fury; her short hair is wildly spiky and threaded with thorny vines. The air shimmers around her like heat waves; her righteous anger is palpable. I marvel that the idiots by the fire don’t simply throw themselves at her feet. She is absolutely fucking _ magnificent _.

Naturally the idiots don’t just surrender. They’re going to try to grab her. I’m watching with interest to see what she’ll do, when I feel her reach out and summon Cerberus. She does it just like I do. I’d been assuming that Cerberus just visits her when the mood strikes him, but she can actually call him. How interesting! The conspirators are seriously spooked now. Thanatos is looking around frantically; he’s finally figured out that I’m nearby.

I remove my helmet, letting myself be seen. I’m hoping that the traitors will simply give up out of fear, and most of them do. Not Thanatos, though--he orders the shades to attack. Shit. They’re coming awake, hundreds of them, and it’s all wrong. Their eyes are glowing weirdly, and there’s a terrible stench. Nothing like how shades normally are. It must have something to do with how they’re being controlled.

They start running after me and this is going to be a whole lot of fun, considering I don’t have a weapon. Suddenly Cerberus is barrelling past me, knocking shades aside with vicious sweeps of his heads. As I scoop up a dropped sword, I wonder, what’s keeping Persephone safe? I don’t have attention to spare for her; I have to trust that she can take care of herself. The shades are all around me and there’s no letup. I manage to grab a second sword, and Cerberus is a big help, but then he goes tearing off after a group with long spears. 

I’ve just cut one shade down, and my right sword gets caught. I pull it out and hear Persephone scream. I turn to see, and there’s a shade_ right there, _ I’m not going to be able to turn in time--and it just melts in front of my eyes. I _ feel _ it leaving; it’s going somewhere far from here. I’m not sure where but I have no time to consider: more are attacking. 

I’m starting to get tired and considering taking some of the more drastic actions available to me when I hear Thanatos’s yell. The shades back away. I turn to see, and he’s lying prone at Persephone’s feet; she has my bident point down in the bastard’s belly. Good for her! The other traitors are also flat on the ground, bound up tight in Persephone’s vines. I grin to myself. Yes, indeed. This is the goddess I proposed to. This is the stunning and brilliant woman that I want.

I’m trying to calm down, bring my appearance back to normal. I very much need to know what Persephone did to that shade, but I don’t want to scare her. I wait until I’m sure my voice is under control.

“What did you do to that shade?”

“I’m not really sure,” she replies. Despite my efforts, she’s very agitated. Damn! I’m pretty sure I’m fully back to my usual appearance.

I try again, as gently as possible. I really do need to know. “You didn’t destroy it. It went somewhere, I could feel that.”

“I don’t know!” she wails. I have to back off. I’ve pushed her too hard and she’s clearly unnerved, at the least. I’m angry with myself; it’s the last thing I wanted.

***

I supervise the Furies’ interrogations of the prisoners for a couple of hours but they’re not getting very far. I decide instead to return to Vathia to check on things there.

Hecate is working to lift the enchantments that the traitors placed on the shades to make them obey. It’s taking her some time; it seems it’s complicated and she can only do a few at a time. 

Persephone has been distant and subdued since our conversation. I told her she could go home, but she refused. “I need to see this through. Shades are my responsibility,” she said. I couldn’t argue with that. Right now she’s seated by the fire with a clipboard and a pen. Every few minutes a subordinate brings a batch of shades that Hecate has released, and hands over a sheet of information for Persephone’s list.

Hecate releases the last batch of shades, and I go over to speak to her. “How did they manage to do this? I didn’t think there was any way to overrule my power as God of the Dead.”

“I’m not sure. They used some form of potion, I can see that, but I don’t know the ingredients yet. Rest assured that I will make it a priority to figure this out.” 

Persephone comes over to join us. “I have the final tally,” she says. “There were 478 shades. The first of them was diverted here over eleven years ago.”

Hecate shakes her head. “That slick bastard. He’s been planning this for that long?”

I shrug. “Tell me you’re surprised? He’s been a malcontent for centuries.”

“Whatever. We won’t sort this out tonight.” Hecate turns to address Persephone. “Let me take you home, honey? You look asleep on your feet.”

Persephone nods. She’s obviously worn out. 

***

The trials the next day are brief and exhausting. The lackeys all see the wisdom, or listen to the good advice, to express repentance and throw themselves on my mercy. Not so Thanatos. He stands in open court and spits defiance, justifying his actions by digging up every petty grievance, every slight, every spiteful grudge against me that he can think of. He refuses to express remorse. He leaves me no choice.

Throughout the proceedings, Persephone sits quietly in the back of the courtroom. She’s alert, tense, and serious, watching everything. Watching me? I haven’t been nervous about passing down a judgment in many centuries, but now I am. Will she think I’m too harsh? Will she understand?

I truly don’t have much choice. I sentence Thanatos to Tartarus, the others to banishment.

***

The day after that I have to give Persephone a medal. In public. It’s Hecate’s idea. She also said we had to invite my brothers, as official representatives of the other realms. I give in to all this with bad grace.

“This is necessary, after the trials. Something positive for people to focus on,” says Hecate.

“How did you get Persephone to agree?” I ask. She’s barely said five words to me since that day in Vathia. She’s been so quiet and withdrawn. I’m not sure if it’s still the photographer thing that’s bothering her, or something more.

Hecate rolls her eyes. “I said ‘please.’ I pointed out it’s good PR, and she agreed. You know, you might try talking to her yourself. She’s having a bad week but I don't think she'd refuse you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Deep in the vaults under Tower One, there are--well, there are a whole lot of things accumulated over the past two thousand years. But among all the junk and useless treasure, there’s a drawer-full of various badges that I once commissioned to award to people whose service to the Underworld deserves special recognition. I haven’t given out one of these in a very long time. 

I select the biggest and best of them. The order it’s intended for is called “Hero of the Underworld.” It seems fitting. It’s a pin made of gold and platinum, round, with a four-pointed crown on top: a pomegranate. It’s set with diamonds and six large cabochon rubies. It’s about the same size as Persephone’s good luck stone. Ione’s Eye. I wonder if Persephone keeps it in her pocket now. Did she have it the other day in Vathia? I miss carrying it around. I miss having her trust.

Hecate made all the arrangements and all I have to do is show up. There’s a dais set up in the plaza between the towers, and a large crowd of people have gathered to witness the ceremony. I stand on the side of the platform with my brothers and try not to listen to their snarky commentary as Hecate speaks, describing Persephone’s actions in glowing detail. 

She’s standing on the far side of the platform, waiting calmly. Her hair is long today, and worn pulled back from her face. She’s wearing a dress with a little ruffle at the hem, and a matching jacket. I wish I could stand with her instead of my brothers. I’d be happy to listen to _ her _ snarky comments.

Hecate wraps up her speech, and I cross the stage to stand before Persephone. I smile a little tentatively, and let her see the medal. I know Hecate rehearsed this with her, but still I’m hesitant about being close to her, touching her. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“You ready for this?” I ask quietly.

“Sure, go ahead,” she says. She’s quite cool and collected. 

I pin the pomegranate to her jacket. It suits her. The rubies are a little darker than her skin, and the diamonds set them off. Persephone meets my eye. I can’t quite decipher the look on her face, but there’s a certain amount of grim pleasure there. She holds out her hand and I shake it. “I appreciate that you were willing to do this,” I tell her. 

She nods. “We’ll see if you still feel the same way in a few minutes.” She lets go of my hand and moves over to the podium. Hecate gives way to her with a welcoming gesture, and Persephone takes her place at the microphone, bending it down to match her height. I’m surprised: as far as I know, there weren’t any plans for Persephone to speak. The applause from the audience begins to die down. I move over to stand next to my brothers at the side of the dais, and Hecate joins us.

“Did you know she planned to speak?” I ask Hecate.

“No. But I can’t say I’m all that surprised,” she answers. 

The audience is quietly waiting now, and Persephone begins. “I am not a hero,” she says. “I am someone who happened to learn about a problem, and I chose to take action to stop it. All I did was no more than what anyone could have done in the same situation.” I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but humility well befits a hero.

“The traitors also saw some problems. They saw what they called unfairness, and injustice, but the traitors made bad choices. They were unhappy with their lot and instead of choosing to improve things for themselves and for everyone, they chose the path of betrayal and destruction. They chose a path that would have led to violence, bloodshed, and upheaval; that would have affected everyone here.”

“I submit to you, that the nobler path would have been to choose to make a change. To see a problem in the world, to speak up, to advocate for improvement, to work towards a solution--to fight for it if necessary--may be the harder path, but it is the path of courage. It is the path that leads to a future that is better and brighter for everyone, not just for a selfish few.”

Zeus is nodding approvingly next to me, and Poseidon seems to be zoning out, but who knows with him. I remember Persephone’s warning and brace myself for the sting.

“The traitors acted out of greed, but possibly also out of desperation. Perhaps they saw no other acceptable way forward. For those of us with the ability to make changes, it is no excuse to say, ‘That’s how it’s always been.’ It’s no excuse to say, ‘I didn’t know people were suffering.’ It’s essential for the people who have power over other people’s lives to constantly reexamine our laws, our traditions, and our assumptions. That is a responsibility which must never be neglected.”

“We all owe our loyalty to our sacred traditions, and to those above us who protect and defend us. But loyalty must run both ways, or it means nothing. Loyalty must also flow downward, from those in power to those whose trust they hold. It is only when the mutual bonds of loyalty are strong that our security and our freedom are certain. It is only then that a future of hope and abundance is assured. May the blessings of peace and justice bring prosperity to us all. Thank you.”

Persephone steps back from the microphone and folds her hands calmly. It’s astonishing to me that this is the same young goddess who was nervous about making a presentation to twenty-odd executives, only a few short weeks ago. The rapt audience pauses a few moments in respect for her words, and then erupts in enthusiastic clapping and some cheers. I smile widely, and join in the applause as well. Zeus is looking sour, and clapping with less enthusiasm.

Hecate, standing next to me, pitches her voice so my brothers will hear her, too. “I’m impressed,“ she says. “She found a way to slap all three of you at once.” She just barely hides her smirk, but it’s there in her voice. Then she goes over to Persephone, shaking her hand and speaking cheerfully to her.

***

“I thought we should all go to lunch together,” says Zeus, speaking to Persephone. 

Oh, fantastic. This ought to be a real treat. 

It seems there are dozens of people who want to speak to Persephone, but after twenty minutes or so we extract ourselves. Zeus suggests a nearby place; apparently he planned this in advance. I really don’t want to go but I’m not letting my brothers take Persephone off by themselves. We all cross the plaza together and walk down the street.

Persephone, who possesses more social graces than the three of us combined, gets Poseidon going about his realm. He's describing palaces made of coral and pearls, and tame herds of seahorses or whatever. She’s being very charming and giving him all of her attention. Poseidon grins over his shoulder at me.

Zeus, walking with me behind the other pair, tries to help in his subtle way.

“If you want to get a taste of _ that _,” he says, gesturing lewdly so I’m sure not to miss his meaning, “you're gonna have to talk to her.”

“Stay out of this. I don't want your help,” I snap. Persephone seems a lot less angry with me than I have any right to expect. I don’t want Zeus screwing that up.

In a few minutes, we arrive at the restaurant and are seated around a square table, Persephone across from me. I scan the menu for anything vegetarian, and there’s nothing. Even most of the salads have meat or fish in them.

I'm disgusted with myself, that I wasn't paying attention and allowed Zeus to steer us to a place where there's nothing for Persephone to eat. I consider making a fuss now, insisting we go somewhere else. I carefully observe her, checking her mouth and brows for hints. I decide she probably wouldn’t take it well.

The waiter comes to take our order and we all wait for Persephone to start. 

“I’ll have the house salad, please,” she says. I wince.

“Yes, ma’am. And to drink?”

“Just water.”

Zeus orders a chorizo appetizer and a steak, and a bottle of wine for the table. Poseidon orders a shrimp cocktail and ceviche. I follow Persephone’s lead and order a salad. It’s nothing more than an empty gesture of penitence, but at least I won’t look like a greedy pig like my brothers.

Zeus rolls his eyes at me before turning to Persephone.

“I forgot you’re a vegetarian,” he says. He doesn’t apologize for taking her someplace where there’s no food for her. He probably figures she likes eating pitiful plates of lettuce.

“Do you eat fish?” asks Poseidon.

“No, I don’t,” she answers. She smiles slightly at the look on his face. “It could be worse. My mother’s a vegan.”

Zeus is exasperated now. “What does _ that _mean?”

“She’s a vegetarian but she also doesn’t eat dairy or eggs. Nothing that came from an animal. Including honey.”

My brothers exchange looks of bewilderment.

“That explains so much,” says Zeus.

“I guess I can see not eating meat, because animals are pretty cute,” chirps Poseidon. “But how can anyone live without butter? I mean: cookies, and muffins, and pancakes. Right?”

“Ice cream,” Persephone contributes.

“Exactly! And cheese! So what _ does _ Demeter eat?”

“Fruits, vegetables, and grains.”

“What a terrible way to live,” Poseidon shakes his head.

The wine and appetizers arrive and my brothers dig in. Poseidon in particular takes a childish joy in dipping and devouring his shrimp. Just for a moment, Persephone’s gaze crosses mine. There’s a hint of amusement in her eyes, and then she looks away. I miss the way we used to be, making jokes and easy conversation. I don’t know if we’ll ever get that back. I slip into moody contemplation and lose the thread of the conversation for a while. I don’t see a path forward with Persephone, unless she’s willing to take a huge leap of forgiveness. I can’t imagine why she would want to do that.

When the main course arrives I try to focus again. Zeus picks up his fork, and narrows his eyes at Persephone. “So, that was an interesting speech you made. It’s almost as if you were making predictions about the future. Have you been developing prophetic abilities?”

“No,” Persephone replies. “I was speaking more about the lessons of the past. It seems to me that with your family history you need to watch out for treacherous underlings and signs of usurpers. Right?”

Oh dear. Poseidon and I exchange an alarmed look. She’s hit right on Zeus’s number one hot button issue, and he’s already looking pissed. There’s a slight smell of ozone, and a tiny crackle of lightning skims his temples. I tense up, afraid of what my brother will do next. He does _ not _ like to be reminded that he’s a usurper himself, the same as our father. I set down my fork. Persephone is as serene as a summer sky, slowly munching her salad and watching Zeus. 

Poseidon is squirming with apprehension. “So, um, did I mention my new boat? It’s--”

“What do you know about it, young lady? Do you even know the difference between treason and righteous revolution against a tyrant?” snarls Zeus, his eyes snapping with sparks.

“Of course I do. The difference lies in who is the victor.”

With no warning at all, a tremendous explosion of thunder crashes over us, tipping over our glasses and rattling my teeth. The other patrons are deeply alarmed for some reason, and begin to rapidly decamp from the restaurant.

I push back from the table, leaning forward with my weight on the balls of my feet. I stay seated, but I’m fully prepared to jump up and stop Zeus from whatever he’s planning to do. I have never directly defied him, but I’m ready to do anything it takes to prevent him harming Persephone.

Zeus glares at me, then back at Persephone. She’s still perfectly calm, not a hair growing by a single iota, not a drop of visible sweat. She just goes on eating her salad, watching Zeus. She is way too smart not to understand the danger of goading him. She has to be doing this deliberately. 

Something clicks in my memory and I’m thinking of that day when she beat me at chess, when she forced me to give her what she wanted. She’s _ hustling _ Zeus. Holy _ shit _! What is it she wants from him? I sit back in my chair, intrigued and fascinated, trying to relax again. I shouldn’t interfere with this. How can I back her play, I wonder?

“You are treading on dangerous territory,” Zeus warns.

“I’m not trying to say that Thanatos was right!” Persephone lets her eyes widen in artless surprise. She reaches out as if to touch Zeus’s arm, but stops short. It’s a very charming gesture. “I don’t believe that! I’m pointing out that people can have legitimate grievances, and they need an outlet for them.”

“And they have them! I have to listen to people bitching all the time!” Zeus is somewhat defused now, still irritated but not lethally pissed.

“Certainly. But what about the people who don’t have the courage to go to you? Or perhaps--” She makes a circular gesture with her hand, and puts on a thoughtful face. She looks like she's trying to think up a hypothetical case, some sort of philosophical thought experiment, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what’s really going on. She manipulated the conversation around to this point, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. I’ve seen this look before.

She continues, as if she just thought of an idea. “Let’s say there is an important, powerful person, not right at the top, but in favor. Yes?”

Zeus nods impatiently. He’s got a limited tolerance for this sort of thing.

Persephone goes on. “This person uses their power to harm another, who isn’t as powerful or in favor. What is this other person to do? If they complain, they’re afraid they not only won’t get justice, they’ll get reprisal because the first person is so powerful.” She holds out a hand to Zeus, a nicely calculated appeal of subtle supplication.

He looks smug. He thinks he knows what she’s talking about. “In that case, the second person should just stop being such a wimp and do what needs to be done. Take it out of the first one’s hide. Or if they can’t, stop whining and accept their lot in life.”

Persephone nods, slowly. She’s trying to look subdued but under it, there’s another emotion, carefully masked. “So… you’re saying that private retribution is an appropriate way to deal with a problem?”

Zeus shrugs, magnanimous now that he thinks he understands Persephone’s concern. “It’s our nature as gods, isn’t it? We deal with our own problems, because everyone needs to know the consequences of fucking with us. Besides, if the first person needs a takedown, then maybe it’s time for the pecking order to change. That’s the way the world works.” He’s being totally condescending and not even bothering to hide it under a veneer of charm.

Persephone allows her shoulders to slump, and focuses on eating her salad. I pick up my fork again, and for just a moment she looks at me. There’s a gleam in her eye. She’s triumphant. She got _ exactly _ what she wanted.

I’m perplexed. Zeus clearly thinks Persephone wanted him to condemn my actions over the photographer, and when he didn’t, she pretended to be disappointed. But that wasn’t what she wanted at all. I think it over and conclude that she was looking for his implicit permission to take vengeance. I wonder why she wants that. Is she planning to get back at me? Why would she think she needs Zeus’s consent for that? If she wants to even the score with me, I would let her. Maybe I haven’t made that clear enough.

“So, just how long do you intend to go on punishing my brother? You know he was only giving that guy what he deserved,” Zeus smirks. For fuck’s sake! I asked him to stay out of this.

“Yeah, he couldn’t take that kind of crap lying down,” Poseidon chimes in. 

Persephone looks mildly skeptical about this conversational topic. I know she can handle it, but I don’t want her to have to.

“Persephone has the right to be angry with me,” I say. “Will you both please drop this?”

***

We finally get away from my brothers, and walk together back to the office. We’re not talking, but it’s not an awkward, strained silence. We’re just quiet because neither of us wants to talk right now. I suppose that’s not such a bad place to be.

We’re in the elevator when I finally know what I want to say. “Persephone,” I say cautiously. “The loyalty and graciousness you’ve shown me over the past few days--I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for that, and how little I deserve it.” We’ve arrived at her floor, and I place my arm across the door to hold it. “There are some things I would like to tell you--”

Persephone gives a little sigh. “Hades, I’m sorry to interrupt you. Whatever it is you have to say, I'm not ready to hear it yet. It would go to waste. I'm having a rough time right now, trying to figure out some things. I know it’s not really fair to you, and I want to move on, but for some reason I’m not done being angry with you."

I nod, slowly. This is really better than I expected. “All right. I’m… not done being friends with you.” Truly it’s her choice, and not mine. I’m trusting her to understand what I leave unsaid: that I care enough to put in the work it will take to regain her trust. 

"Good." She looks like she wants to say more, but she just nods shakily, and goes out the door.

*** Afterward ***

I sit at my desk, reading reports and impatiently waiting for the text I’m expecting. When it finally comes I reply, then go into my dressing room and change. I put on a long black himation and sandals. When I return to my office, Cerberus is waiting for me, along with Hermes and the Furies. They’re all dressed for the Mortal Realm as well.

“Hey, boss,” says Alecto. “Sorry that took so long. We finally chased him down in Eris’s office.”

“They were playing sucky face,” adds Tisiphone, not looking up from her phone.

“I thought you weren’t going to mention that!” Hermes protests. “I’m sorry Hades, I was just taking a short break, really--”

“Hermes,” I interrupt. ‘I don’t care. I want you to tell me about the secrets in the archives. The ones about Persephone.”

Immediately he starts looking nervous. “Uh. I don’t know what you’re talking about, boss.”

All three Furies focus on him and threateningly move closer. Tisiphone puts her phone away, Alecto cracks her knuckles, and Megaera folds her arms and scowls.

“Now then, ladies,” I say. “No need for that. He thinks he’s protecting our mutual friend.” I smile at Hermes, and his agitation ratchets up. “Come on. We’re going on a field trip.”

***

The five of us and Cerberus materialize in a field in the Mortal Realm. The sun is setting and there’s no one in sight. 

Hermes looks around suspiciously. “Where is this?” he asks.

“Near Pharsalus. This way.” I lead them all towards a riverbank a short distance away. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about this already, but the fight that went down in Vathia was pretty chancy for me. There were over four hundred shades.” I pause. Hermes nods, but he’s too wary to comment. The Furies follow after us, all of them looking rather bored.

“At one point one of them was about to stab me in the back. It didn’t, though. Persephone stopped it.” Still no reaction from Hermes, but he’s starting to look like a spooked horse, all white around the eyes. 

“She did something interesting,” I continue. “The shade seemed to melt, but it wasn’t destroyed. You understand, after all this time, I have an affinity for shades. And I could feel that she sent it somewhere.”

“Where?” Hermes asks. He’s sweating now.

“We’re almost there,” I answer. “Cerberus will lead us.”

We follow Cerberus up the riverbank for a while as the warm light fades to a bluer tinge with approaching night. We leave the river, following a path, and soon find ourselves in a large grove of tall trees. There’s a low stone wall encircling the grove, clearly marking it as a human place. The open area is dotted with crude statues and stelae, as well as larger rectangular structures made of stone. In the center stands a small white building, with four columns and a narrow pediment. A faint mist has risen from the river, lending the place a hushed atmosphere, and the twilight contributes to a pervasive sense of sadness. It is a place of death.

We enter through a gap in the wall, and become aware of a strange low moan, constant and inarticulate, combined with scraping and scratching sounds. 

Cerberus sniffs the air, then leads us towards a far corner. The faint breeze brings with it the smell of decay, mixed with an herbal scent that seems vaguely familiar. As we pass the building we can now see what’s causing the noise. It’s a mortal, or it once was. It’s now a corpse, but nonetheless it’s moving. Its torso is emerging from the ground, its legs are trapped under thick slabs of rock. It seems it has spent the last few days escaping from its own tomb. The stench this close is horrific. The corpse flails its arms, scrabbling on the stone slabs, unable to work out how to free its legs. It sees me, and hisses violently. Naturally. It’s still under the compulsion to attack me.

I look at Hermes. He’s squirming and frowning with worry.

“It’s time this poor soul was freed, don’t you think?” I say.

He nods, and makes a gesture. His role as hierophant sometimes requires helping a shade that can’t extract itself from mortal existence. This one’s shade eagerly abandons its crumbling corpse, and leaps into a clumsy attack. Cerberus snarls, but I don’t move. All three Furies intervene, grabbing the liberated shade. “Take it to Hecate,” I tell them. They disappear, leaving me alone with Hermes and Cerberus.

I step over to the low wall surrounding the cemetery and sit down. “Now then, Hermes. It’s time you and I have a serious talk.”

Author's note: 

This is how I picture the pin:

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks again to Red for beta reading and encouragement!


End file.
